Harry Potter and the Leader of the Half-Blood Revolution
by Chantal du Lac
Summary: Set fourteen years after the events in 'Lord Voldemort and the Heir of Slytherin'. The Dark Lord, Liliana and the Chosen One have unfinished business. But more dark forces that they are not even aware of are lurking in the background, trying to find the right moment to rise...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:This is the Sequel to Lord Voldemort and the Heir of Slytherin**

 **Many thanks to BlackRoseRaven for betaing this story.**

 **Harry Potter and the Leader of the Half-Blood Revolution**

 **Main characters:**

The Chosen One, Harry Potter

The Revolutionary, Vladimir Svensson

The Minister for Magic, Draco Malfoy

The Student, Jade Price

The Enforcer, Ralph Parkinson

The Dark Lord, Tom Riddle

(…and a few others)

 **Prologue**

The man stopped briefly at the entry of the Ministry of Magic, just for long enough to fold his elegant black umbrella and glance condescendingly at the golden letters above the large doors. His rapid steps echoed through the impressive marble and glass patio as he crossed it purposefully from one end to the other. He did not look either right or left, completely ignoring the curious looks and urgent whispers that his arrival elicited.

When the elevator stopped at the final floor he stepped out and walked directly into the Minister's antechamber, startling his assistant, a young woman who jumped from her seat and raised a hand to stop him from walking directly into the office she was guarding, looking as if she was ready to give her life if need be.

"Sir, you cannot go in there without an appointment. The Minister is busy…"

One cold look in her direction from the tall man dressed in a perfectly pressed charcoal suit was enough to silence her protests. She stepped back and cowered behind her desk. She could have recognized those cold blue eyes, those angular, sharp features, that intimidating demeanor anywhere.

Ralph Parkinson entered the Minister for Magic's office without knocking, and let the door close sharply behind him.

"I see your manners have not improved, Parkinson," Draco Malfoy drawled from behind his expensive mahogany desk, without looking up at the intruder. He finished reading the letter he had in front of him, then signed it without hurry, and put it aside in a neat pile to his right.

"I suppose you have found out by now," Parkinson said, leaning over the desk, looking intensely at the only rival to his power.

Malfoy finally raised his eyes to the intruder and pinned him with an icy silver stare in return.

"I have already dispatched every available Auror to find him," he said, disdainfully. "There could be still a chance that this is the act of a fanatic or a former follower…"

Parkinson snorted.

"It's already been confirmed. I've received intelligence that he's been spotted in Hogsmeade merely half an hour after the Elder wand was used for the first time. Of course my men had no idea who he really was."

"Your men were too busy pursuing Harry Potter!" Malfoy suddenly sneered, discontent clear in his voice.

"Harry Potter happens to be at the top of the list of the most dangerous fugitives. The fact that you've been _protecting_ him…" Parkinson sneered back menacingly, "May earn you a one way ticket to Azkaban one of these days, _Minister_."

Malfoy suddenly stood, drawing to his full height, and narrowing his eyes at the man who ruled the wizarding world from the shadows. A few years ago, Ralph Parkinson had become the head of Liliana's secret service, an instrument of terror she used to keep her kingdom under control. While she had entrusted Draco with the ultimate political function, his power was counterbalanced by Ralph's own.

"You'd better not be _threatening_ me, Parkinson," Draco stated coldly. "No one, do you hear me, no one except Liliana may tell me where I cross the line. And I do not see Liliana here. I only see _you_."

The word "you" had been uttered with such disdain that it was as if Parkinson was no more than a disgusting insect.

Ralph scowled, and crossed his arms, weighing Malfoy coldly in return.

"What matters is that Voldemort is out there at this very moment…we must contain the situation before word gets out that he's alive and his followers start regrouping. Things could quickly get out of control," he said.

Malfoy seemed to consider the situation for a couple of moments, staring down at the desk.

"Liliana must be informed immediately," he started. He noticed Ralph falter for a moment, before the other man interrupted quickly:

"Perhaps we should first be sure of what happened. Use the regular channels to let me know when the Aurors find him. I'll dispatch my men as well. He may be dangerous, but I'm sure that by working together we can contain this situation on our own. He's not the menace he used to be. His magic, no matter how strong, is outdated compared to ours."

The expression on Malfoy's face turned suspicious.

"You're hiding something from me, Parkinson," he stated, looking intensely at his rival.

His Legilimency powers hit a wall though, as Parkinson just stared back at him.

"Let me know when you have intelligence as to Voldemort's whereabouts," Ralph said simply, and, after grabbing his umbrella, he walked elegantly to the heavy doors.

"You know as well as I do, Parkinson. He has the Elder Wand. _He is dangerous_ ," Draco said quietly.

Ralph halted for a moment with his hand on the doorknob. He knew Voldemort was very dangerous. He also knew something else, something much more unsettling, that Malfoy was not aware of, and that he was never supposed to find out.

He walked out, the feel of Malfoy glaring at his back never leaving him even as he Apparated in Sweden, before the Slytherins' legendary fortress.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter I**

The first rays of sunlight spilled their way into the vast master bedroom of Malfoy Manor. Draco, still half asleep, deeply regretted that he had forgotten to close the dark, heavy curtains. He groaned and faced away from the large French windows overlooking the gardens behind the manor. After a few moments he became aware of someone watching him intently and groaned again, this time a slight smile gracing his features.

"Still doing that, woman?"

Ginny giggled, and despite his eyes being closed, Draco had no difficulty imagining her beautiful, smiling face, and her bright eyes staring down at him.

A moment later he felt his wife's light fingers tracing patterns on his cheek, and opened his eyes to meet her brown golden stare.

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" he accused, pointing to the windows.

Ginny just batted her eyelashes innocently and traced his lips with her finger.

"I don't know what you're talking about, love," she replied.

Draco narrowed his eyes, but soon forgot his preoccupation with the curtains, when Ginny's other hand made its way under his pajamas blouse. She bowed seductively to whisper in his ear:

"I just wanted a moment alone with you before…"

Draco met her lips half way.

"MUM!"

The large doors burst open and a little girl about five years old ran into the bedroom crying.

Ginny jumped back from Draco's embrace and almost hit her head against the headboard.

"MUM, Scorpius took Ben again! Mum, please tell him to give it back! Mum, PLEASE."

Draco hid his head in the pillow, shaking with laughter.

Flora, his little girl, the light of his eyes, jumped on the bed and climbed towards Ginny, pointing her hand towards the doorway.

"Flora, perhaps Scorpius is just feeding him," Ginny said patiently and got up from the bed taking the girl in her arms. Ben was their Birmanehese cat and for some reason Flora believed she was the only one whom the cat should prefer at all times.

"Let's go downstairs and see if he's there," Ginny offered and threw Draco a glance over her shoulder.

"Don't go anywhere," she said.

The Minister for Magic sat up and pushed silky gold platinum locks away from his face.

"Actually…" he looked miserable for a moment. "Actually, I'll come down as well. I have to take care of a work related issue."

"Draco Malfoy, it's SUNDAY. You promised!" Ginny frowned at him.

"I know, but…" _Voldemort is out there_. "There is something that I need to take care of urgently."

Ginny sighed and went downstairs, holding Flora.

Half an hour later Draco entered the dining room. His appearance was groomed as always, platinum hair slicked back, face freshly shaved, dark blue formal suit and tie spotless. The only thing that betrayed the stressful life he led were the dark circles under his eyes.

His eyes swept the room, looking for Ginny. His parents, who still lived in France, were visiting. Lucius Malfoy was reading his newspaper, while Narcissa sipped her tea, her eyes trained on Flora, who instead of eating, was still playing with the cat. Draco's parents had first self-exiled themselves to Brittany more than 14 years ago when Voldemort had been close to acquiring power for the second time. Allies of the Dark Lord in the beginning, when Voldemort had threatened to take everything away from them including their only son, they had decided to turn against him. When Voldemort had been defeated by Liliana Slytherin they could have come back home, but instead they had preferred to remain away from the madding crowd. They visited Draco and his family, as well as their former house a couple of times a year.

"Scorpius dear, please make sure she washes her hands before eating," Narcissa said to her elder grandson, Scorpius, who had finished his breakfast and was reading through his homework. Scorpius, whose ambition was to be the best student in school, mumbled something and got up.

Ginny was behind the kitchen counter, preparing orange juice for Flora and keeping an eye on the house elves. Despite Draco insisting over the years that she had no business doing housework alongside domestics, Ginny still insisted in being involved in everything related to housework. Even Draco teasing her over her humble Weasely condition back home did not get the reaction he was hoping for.

It had been a pain for Draco to convince his parents to accept Ginny as their daughter in law. Ginny was a Weasley, and Lucius despised their family deeply; however the Malfoys could not deny that even if the Weasleys were a humble family, they were still a very old Pureblood family.

Both Narcissa and Lucius had hoped for a long time that Draco would one day marry Liliana Slytherin. They had seen them growing up together. Only when Liliana had gotten engaged to another pureblood man – who was also Draco's worst rival – had they truly given up the idea.

As the grandchildren arrived, the Malfoys had finally started to slowly warm up to their daughter in law enough to start visiting more often.

"Sit down son and get something to eat. Even ministers need to feed themselves to survive," Lucius drawled giving Draco a stark stare. Draco sighed and took a sit at the table. Narcissa poured him some tea while Ginny finished preparing the eggs and sat a full plate in front of him with a wink.

"I thought I told you not to go anywhere…" she whispered, her lips grazing his cheek.

"I'll be back early love," he replied.

As Ginny walked away, Lucius discreetly pushed a page of the Daily prophet towards him, and indicated one short column.

It read with small letters "Commotion in Hogsmeade".

"Who was it? It's suggesting that Harry Potter was spotted there."

Draco paled a bit, but managed a snort. "Father, Potter would not dare show himself in the civilized world. It was a minor burglary." He attacked his eggs with renewed eagerness.

Lucius pursed his lips.

"I wish you'd stop taking his back. I am worried this could ruin your career. Parkinson is just waiting for an excuse. He wants to sit behind your desk at the ministry."

"That's where you are wrong father," Draco said quietly. "He just wants me gone. He's happy in the shadows as Liliana's henchman. He merely wants a puppet in my place."

He finished his tea and stood.

"I'll see you this afternoon," he said loudly.

"Bye daddy!" Flora cried still refusing to let go of the cat.

"I'll walk you out," Ginny said.

She walked with him to the old gates to the property. She grabbed his hand as he prepared to Disapparate.

"Please promise you will not do anything like last night, ok?"

"Last night was an exception. I promise," he said solemnly, bowing for a kiss. Ginny wrapped her arms around him.

"Oh, such a romantic scene, Minister," a shrill voice interrupted their growing closeness. The flash of a camera made the pair turn around, shock written all over their faces.

Rita Skeeter stood there accompanied by an odd little man, camera in hand, and a satisfied smirk in place.

Draco narrowed his eyes at them.

"Publish that and you'll never work for any newspaper again," he warned.

"Why, minister, such a thing would only contribute to your popularity," Rita Skeeter meowed.

Ginny was not as clement. She waved her hand and the camera disappeared altogether.

"Hey that's my camera!" the little man interjected, but Rita Skeeter shushed him.

"I told you not to," she scowled down at him.

She retrieved her smile and turned to Draco.

"Minister, what a pleasure. Can I get a few moments of your time?"

"Congrats if you manage, lady," Ginny interjected in a bitter tone, and stepped away from her husband, returning to the house.

Draco sighed, trying to stifle his irritation with the reporters.

"What do you want? Why are you harassing me on my property on a Sunday morning?"

Rita Skeeter looked around before coming closer to Draco.

"I heard from a reliable source that someone who looked like Harry Potter was spotted yesterday in Hogsmeade," she whispered.

Draco frowned. _Damn you, Potter. Why can't you just lay down for a while when you are the number one wanted fugitive._

"And he was not alone," she added.

"I would check my sources well, if I were you, madam," Draco said coldly. "Harry Potter is dead. If he were alive, trust me, I would know."

With that the Minister gave them a nod and Disapparated.

It looked like long day ahead.

* * *

The Slytherin residence had been rebuilt after the original plans of the old citadel. Rumors said that the original castle had been destroyed by fire towards the end of the 20th century. Rumors also said that a certain dark lord had been involved; that the castle was cursed, and many other things that did not make much sense.

The citadel hung at the edge of a stony cliff and overlooked a small wizard village. The front entrance was surrounded by lush gardens whose purpose was probably just to ensure intimacy for the castle's inhabitants, since nobody apart from the caretakers were ever spotted in those gardens.

That morning, the castle was completely quiet. In the large dining room on the ground floor, a handful of servants and house elves were busy setting up breakfast. A lady dressed in a black gown supervised the activities with an attentive eye. She turned her head briefly to watch a young woman with long, disheveled dark hair slipping quietly down the stairs to the main door. She did not bid her goodbyes, nor did the maid pay more than a moment's attention to her. She was just one of the many different young women Ralph Parkinson brought home from time to time, had his fun with and, in many cases, never saw again.

A few minutes later Ralph Parkinson himself made his way down the sumptuous staircase. He was immaculately dressed in a dark coloured suit and crisp white shirt as always. His wavy dark hair hung loose around his chiseled face, still slightly damp from his shower.

The maid in chief smiled politely as he took his seat, reaching for the damask napkin.

"Tea, Sir?" she asked.

Ralph looked up at the silver pot in her hand and nodded. Nothing betrayed the previous evenings' activities except for his tired eyes, the maid thought. She was sure he'd had a lot of firewhiskey before coming back home with that girl. On cue, as if he'd read her thoughts, he extracted a vial from his pocket and downed it as the maid poured his tea.

"The Daily Prophet," he demanded, but a valet had already set it on the table next to his cup.

The personnel settled in a line in parallel to the table, waiting for his command, while Ralph ate breakfast and skipped through the newspaper.

"Send Williams in," he requested.

A young man entered a moment later, as if he had been just behind the massive doors, waiting for the command. He was large, red haired and appeared excessively nervous as he fiddled with his green hat when Parkinson's intense blue stare settled on him. He was part of Parkinson's group of enforcers, which counted about a hundred pureblood talented wizards whose abilities he trusted enough to train them personally. They were a small elite, surpassing the Ministry's Auror department employees by far.

"Report," Ralph said, lifting the cup to his lips.

"Sir. We identified the three Aurors who were in Hogsmeade yesterday. We have them in custody at Nurmengard."

Ralph looked satisfied.

"Well done Williams. Have they already said something of interest?"

"No Sir. However…"

Ralph raised his eyes from the newspaper.

"They are Aurors, Sir. Is it fine to retain them like that, Sir?"

"It is fine if I say so, Williams," he replied, hiding his annoyance. Just because those men were in Malfoy's jurisdiction it did not mean they were out of Ralph's Parkinson's grasp. For some reason, many people still believed in the appearance of democracy in the wizarding world. It had been Liliana's wish to keep this appearance, and he had no choice but to abide by her will. She'd also given Malfoy equivalent power to his, and while Ralph did not wish to be the Minister for Magic it still irked him that he had to face his old rival in that position instead of a random puppet Minister.

"You may go and prepare the interrogation. I'll be there soon."

The other wizard bowed deeply and disappeared as quickly as he had entered.

Ralph put his napkin on the table and stood.

"I'll be late tonight. Do not wait with dinner," he said to the maid in chief.

A valet hurried with his cloak and Ralph walked out through the gardens and up to the gates where he Disapparated.

* * *

It gave Ralph no pleasure to be in Nurmengard. The place had only become more sinister than ever after Malfoy and himself had imprisoned there most of Voldemort's followers, as well as any fool that had stood between them and their common thirst for absolute power. Anyone except Dumbledore and Potter that is. Somehow, Dumbledore had managed to persuade Liliana to let him continue his rule as Hogwarts Headmaster. Of course the reputation of the school had plummeted since Hogwarts, unlike Beauxbattons and Durmstrang, was the only wizarding school in Europe still admitting half-blood students. Dumbledore had thus continued to do whatever he wanted on his small fief. Liliana had once explained to Ralph that Dumbledore himself had entertained some of her political philosophy in his youth and that in any case he would be less dangerous if left with his illusory liberty. The implicit price of that liberty was that Dumbledore never intervened in politics anymore or set foot outside the school grounds.

Potter's existence, on the other hand annoyed Ralph much more than Dumbledore's. Potter was the number one fugitive, and if Ralph ever found him, he would not give him the chance of imprisonment. Potter had to die, he had been a constant pain over the years. Every now and then the former chief of the Aurors' department would create some sort of chaos that Ralph had to stifle. People would always die and there would be a mess. The last time he had made an appearance Ralph had almost got him. He'd managed to severely wound him. It had been more than two years since Potter had last resurfaced and Ralph had hoped that he was dead.

Ralph sighed, and pushed open the door to a large torture cell where three men kneeled, their heads covered and a few other enforcers, Williams among them, standing behind them, wands at the ready.

"Thanks Jurgen," Ralph nodded to a tall, blonde man standing by the small window, his hands in his pockets.

The vampire nodded, and Williams took off the black hoods, allowing the men on the floor to see. Ralph walked in front of them, and stared at them coldly.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked.

The three men just stared at him, their eyes large as saucers, but it was a clear answer to Ralph's question.

"Do you know why I brought you here?"

"Sir," one of the Aurors spoke. "If it's in relation to the incident yesterday, we do not know anything more that we have already told your men here. You have no power to retain us. We are under the authority of the Minister and we have done nothing wrong."

Ralph's lips curved up in a skeptical smile.

"Whether you've done something wrong or not remains to be determined."

He paced a few times in front of them, thinking.

"I want to hear what you saw yesterday in Hogsmeade. Every detail. If you omit something I shall know." The Aurors knew it to be true. Ralph Parkinson had the reputation of being the most accomplished Legilimens alive.

The Auror recounted what had happened. They had had a lead on Harry Potter. They had cornered him in Hogsmeade. A man had been caught in between the curses. The man had helped Potter escape.

"He was able to fly without a broom. I have never witnessed something like that before," the Auror finished.

Ralph's hand curled into a fist at his side. This was the one skill no one except Liliana and Voldemort had mastered, not even him and Malfoy, who still used Apparition, which remained traceable. There was no doubt Voldemort was back.

"Did he carry a wand?" Ralph inquired.

"Yes, Sir. It looked strikingly like…" the Auror swallowed. "The one that the Saviour's statue in Hogsmeade holds. The Elder Wand."

Ralph sighed and faced the small window, then Jurgen. The vampire raised an eyebrow.

Ralph gave a short nod. He left the room without another word, not wasting time with watching the execution of the three Aurors. They knew far too much to be left alive. Rumors about Voldemort's return had to be stifled even before birth.

* * *

Draco Malfoy sat behind his desk, going through his usual paperwork. At his side, his assistant Nathalie and an undersecretary waited for his instructions on the various matters at hand.

"The letter to the French Minister, Sir?" the assistant inquired.

"I signed it, it's in the file. How about the Swedish ambassador? Is the dinner confirmed?"

"It is, Minister," the undersecretary confirmed. He looked a little uncomfortable as he asked: "The order to liberate Bellatrix Lestrange. Have you decided Sir? She is severely ill. Her husband has requested her liberation to…"

"I know, Scott!" Draco interrupted him, scowling. "But I have not decided yet."

"There is a petition to…"

"Enough!" Draco yelled. "I will hear no more on Bellatrix Lestrange."

The undersecretary took a step back. Sometimes the Minister's cold façade cracked to show a much more disturbing side that lay underneath.

"Yes, Sir."

There was a knock on the door and man dressed in a long leather coat entered.

"O'Reiley," Draco looked up from the paper he was signing to the chief of the department for magical enforcement.

"Sir, may I see you for a moment?" he looked pointedly in the direction of the undersecretary then back to Draco.

"Do you have anything else for me, Scott?" Draco inquired.

"No, Minister." The undersecretary took his leave.

"Sir, Robinson, Gilly and Kim did not report for work this morning. Our investigation showed that they were taken into custody by Ralph Parkinson's enforcers," O'Reiley said.

Draco's silver eyes flashed with fury. Ralph was directly interfering in his investigation. This time he had gone too far.

"Prepare your best ten men. Meet me in Uppsala this evening," he said.

O'Reiley bowed and exited. Draco's assistant followed him out.

Alone, Draco stood and paced around the room in an effort to calm down. So Parkinson was now openly challenging his authority. He had to put a stop to that immediately, before damage to his reputation occurred.

However, he could not just arrest or kill Parkinson without discussing his behavior with Liliana first. It was beyond Draco how Liliana accepted this kind of behavior his part in the first place. Or had she requested this of Parkinson?

Draco had met her so rarely in the last few years that it was hard to say what her views were, or whether she cared about these things at all. In fact, Draco had not spoken to Liliana since Christmas two years back, when she'd made her last speech at the Ministry.

In the first years after Voldemort's defeat, Draco and Liliana had met many times. Draco had followed through his studies at Hogwarts, then pursued studies in journalism and political science and finally joined the Ministry. A smile played on Draco's lips when he remembered the two years he'd spent in the Aurors' department together with Potter. While Potter was meant to be an Auror, obsessed with his idea of justice, Draco's aim was higher. He wanted the whole ministry to himself.

At the time, Liliana had been busy traveling and gaining support for her pureblood supremacy policy. She'd rebuilt Durmstrang and her parents' home. She'd continued working on her magical skills. And the man who never left her side was Ralph Parkinson. His own skills had been growing exponentially.

And then during the Christmas dinner two years before, Liliana had told Draco she would marry Parkinson. While it did not come completely as a surprise, with Parkinson being a pureblood and a very handsome bastard, the prospect of such a marriage still made Draco nauseous.

She'd always been his friend and he had no choice but to rejoice for her choices, may they be good or bad. He still remembered that fateful evening when she'd found him drowning in his own tears on the seventh floor of Hogwarts under the unsurmountable burden of finding a way for the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. She'd saved him from his fears that evening and helped him realize his full potential.

Did the Liliana he knew approve of Parkinson's mad quest to end Potter's life? How many times had Draco had to warn Potter, to save him since that unsuccessful rebellion Potter had the unfortunate idea to lead five years ago?

What would she think about Parkinson's actions today? Would she overlook them?

Draco had to see her. He had tell her about the rumors concerning Voldemort. He had to know if she still trusted him more than she trusted Parkinson.

* * *

Harry Potter. Voldemort. Harry Potter. Voldemort.

Ralph's thoughts gravitated around the unlikely duo the whole day, while the reports he received while in his office came without any concrete clue as to either Voldemort's or Potter's whereabouts.

As the valet took his cloak late that evening, the maid in chief bowed and brought him unpleasant news.

"Sir, the Minister is here to see you. He is waiting for you in the library."

Ralph's hand tightened on the wand in the pocket of his coat. So, Malfoy had already found out about the execution of the Aurors, or had some urgent news about Voldemort and needed his help. He had never come to visit before.

He nodded to the maid and went in the direction of the library. The maid followed him quickly in with a tray with tea.

"Malfoy," Ralph greeted.

The Minister for Magic sat in an armchair, his forehead resting against the heel of his hand, his face partially hidden by his silver blonde hair.

He looked up at his rival and straightened his pose.

"I did not come to find you, Parkinson. I'm here to see Liliana," he said, an unreadable expression on his face.

"She is not here at the moment," Ralph said calmly.

Malfoy chucked quietly, darkly.

"That much is obvious. Imagine my surprise when I was told that this 'moment' you just mentioned is actually years..."

Malfoy pushed with his foot at the unmoving form of a servant passed out from torture on the floor. The maid gave a faint cry and dropped the tray.

"Get out," Ralph ordered the maid.

"Where is she?" Malfoy's tone had gone from neutral to dangerously calm. "Where is Liliana?"

Ralph's countenance changed too. He went white with fury.

"How dare you question me?"

Malfoy stood slowly, scowling, and drew his wand.

"How dare I question you? I know what you did this morning, Parkinson. You killed three men under my command. You killed the witnesses of Voldemort's return. You are out of control and Liliana needs to know it. I asked you a question."

Ralph pointed his wand at Malfoy in turn.

"If I don't kill you now, I will have you arrested. My men are waiting outside," Malfoy smirked without humour.

Ralph shook his head mockingly. "So are mine."

"Sir!Sir! The Dark Mark has been spotted in the sky above London!" Williams came running into the library, and froze when he saw the two wizards ready to duel.

"The dark lord is more foolish than I thought," Ralph muttered.

Malfoy ignored Williams, his gaze trained on Parkinson.

"She needs to know he's back," he said. "You have to tell me where she is."

Ralph lowered his wand. He looked at Williams, who hurried to leave the room.

Ralph bit his lip and stared at the ground for a moment, pondering. Then he faced Malfoy once more, and his expression hardened.

"I do not know where she is," he said quietly. "You and I have to contain Voldemort on our own. Now let's go. We'll discuss about Liliana once we've dealt with him."

If Malfoy was shocked, he did not show it. He put his wand away.

"Don't think for a second this is the end of it, Parkinson."

They both went outside to find their respective subordinates ready to receive their orders.

"Leave no suspected Death Eater alive," Ralph ordered.

He turned around to see Malfoy nod to the Aurors and Dissaparating. As his enforcers departed, Ralph _accioed_ his new Firebolt 2016.

"Yes, let's see who gets him first, Malfoy. The race is on."

* * *

 ** _A/N: So we're back! I hope you are enjoying the story so far. Don't forget to follow the story and leave a review if you enjoy the story. Reviews always make my day, and guess what, I tend to write more and update quicker :)_**

 ** _Once again many thanks to BlackRoseRaven for editing this story. Harry Potter obviously does not belong to me and this story is only for entertainment purposes._**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter II**

It was unusually cold and quiet that evening in Hogsmeade. Stars shone distantly against the velvety clear sky, and the first early snowfall had covered the houses and routes of the wizarding village in an eerie white.

Although it had stopped snowing hours before, the inhabitants had turned in early and not a soul in sight could be spotted in the narrow streets. In the village's main square, only a couple of regulars inside Madam Rosmerta's pub were enjoying their beers and firewhiskey at the wooden bar.

Rosmerta's had continued to be a profitable business over the years, under the supervision of its relentlessly entrepreneurial owner. Madam Rosmerta was just setting various drinks on a tray to take them upstairs to the distinguished guests who had been meeting discreetly and quite regularly on the first floor of her pub, when an unusual noise she heard outside the door made her stop in her tracks. She hoped it was the third guest they were expecting and not some government official, otherwise there would be trouble. She went to one of the small windows and peered outside. Her jaw almost dropped at the view. A large, gorgeous sleigh pulled by six reindeers had landed just outside the pub's door, and Rosmerta breathed in relief when she saw Mademoiselle Caroline Armand, headmistress of Bauxbattons stepping out of the sleigh. The headmistress was a young woman with very long dark hair, partially hidden at that moment under the luxurious white fur hat she wore. She was also wearing a far too expensive wool and fur coat for a place like this, and over the knee red suede boots with high heels. That fact alone made Rosmerta wonder how she could even walk with those in the snow. Talk about trying to arrive inconspicuously. Rosmerta shook her head in amazement.

Mademoiselle Armand entered the pub a moment later and swept the room with her gaze, as if looking for someone. The heels of her extravagant boots clinked on the old wooden floor when she spotted Rosmerta and hurried her way. Everyone turned and stared at the unusual apparition.

"Bonsoir, Rosmerta. Are they already here?" she asked in English, her words laced with a heavy French accent.

Rosmerta nodded and grabbed her tray.

"Come with me Mademoiselle Armand," she said quietly. "Nice new perfume, or am I wrong?"

"Ah, my fiancé just brought it from Paris," the woman replied with quick smile. She was clearly used to compliments, but still reveled in each of them.

Rosmerta chucked to herself and pushed the large oak door open, taking the stairs to the first floor. Hopefully despite Madamoiselle Armand's conspicuous appearance, no one would consider the reunion of the most brilliant minds in the wizarding world under Rosmerta's roof more than an academic's friendly chat and run to warn the Ministry, or even worse, the enforcers. Or perhaps she was deluding herself given that it would probably take Draco Malfoy's Aurors under two minutes to arrive and arrest them all for conspiracy. She put these thoughts aside and instead replied good-naturedly:

"Lucky you, Mademoiselle Armand. Here you go, the gentlemen arrived a while ago and have been waiting for you."

She entered a room on the first floor and set her tray on the table in the middle of the room where three men of different ages sat. Discussion around the table halted for a moment, and Rosmerta served the drinks and checked on the fireplace, adding more wood.

"Caroline. So happy you could join in the end," Dumbledore said pleasantly, standing gingerly despite his age and pointing to a chair beside him. "Please have a seat."

The youngest of the men at the table smirked and looked away, the side of his sallow face obscured by a curtain of greasy black hair. The third man whom Mademoiselle Armand knew well, Bertrand des Pensees Profondes, a most renowned professor of ancient runes and philosopher, smiled at her good-naturedly.

"Bonsoir Caroline," he said.

"Good evening, professors," she replied.

The young woman shed her coat and sat at the table. In the golden light she appeared most fair, with her waist-long glossy hair framing pretty features in which blue, almost violet eyes were the most noticeable.

"Would it pain you so greatly to be on time just once, Mademoiselle Armand?" Snape asked, without hiding his irritation. "It is inconvenient for all of us to have to go through the status quo more than once because of your bad habit."

"Severus, please…" Dumbledore intervened on a conciliatory tone.

But Caroline, whose red lipstick painted lips curled slightly when she heard Snape speak, seemed to enjoy the banter.

"Ah," she retorted, without addressing to anyone in particular and avoiding to look at Snape, "it seems some people are under the impression that their time is more valuable than others'".

"It's not an impression, Mademoiselle. For some of us it is a bitter reality. Not that you would understand that with you taking what, two hours every day to put your makeup on?"

At that Caroline turned sharply towards Snape, prepared to make a nasty reply before Dumbledore put a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't mind Severus, Caroline. Let's discuss the matter at hand. We have good news."

Appeased, the French woman turned to meet his gaze.

"Please professor," she said to Dumbledore. "Forgive my delay. We had a meeting with all 7th grade students' parents to prepare for the graduation ceremony. What is the good news?" She glanced furtively at Snape who met her eyes for the briefest of moments before he looked in the opposite direction.

Rosmerta grabbed her tray and left the room to give her customers some privacy.

"Since we are all here now, I shall share my good news with everyone," Dumbledore spoke. "Last evening Harry Potter came to visit me, and he brought the most unexpected guest with him."

Silence fell around the table as Dumbledore leaned towards his interlocutors. "Lord Voldemort."

For a long moment no one seemed to breathe as they stared incredulously at the Hogwarts Headmaster.

Snape spoke first, voicing the others' thoughts: "How is this possible? The Dark Lord is alive? Are you sure he was truly the Dark Lord, headmaster?"

"Positive," Dumbledore replied calmly.

"I fail to see how this is a good news and how it could help us," Bernard des Pensees Profondes argued. "He is…or used to be the most dangerous dark wizard in the world."

The Hogwarts headmaster took a sip from his goblet.

"Arguably," Caroline said. "Liliana Slytherin has beaten all contenders for that title by far."

"Arguably," Snape drawled. "Liliana Slytherin can hardly be considered a dark witch."

"Here we go again," Caroline countered, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "How many times did we have this argument? Why do you always have to defend her? Do you fancy the "Saviour", professor?"

Snape threw her a disgusted look at the insinuation and did not honor the question with an answer. He had always held a very strong fascination with the dark arts and with the Slytherin family more than anything. Liliana Slytherin and Voldermort had been the last of their descendants. While Severus had lost all respect and empathy for Voldemort when his former master had attempted to take his life, his interest in Liliana was still as present, but it had never hovered on the side of the inappropriate.

"I think we all agreed at the end of our last meeting that something needed to be done about Liliana's rule over our world before it is too late. I, too, have mixed feelings towards Liliana. I've always had since I found out that she was Gellert Grindelwald's granddaughter. The apple could not fall far from the tree, I thought at the time, and consequently chose not to trust her. But she saved the wizarding world from Voldemort. We were all there, apart from you Caroline, because you were too young at that time, but we were all witnesses of that great deed. She did something none of us had been able to, but that does not give her the right to destroy everything we stand for. Since last year, we have had irrefutable proof that she'd been using the Sources to her own benefit. This is where I draw the line."

Caroline nodded absent mindedly, while Snape stared unseeingly at his goblet. Bernard de Pensee Profondes nodded.

"I lead a comfortable life as headmaster, she never interfered at Hogwarts and she did not let Ralph or Draco interfere either," Dumbledore continued. "She made you headmaster of the new Durmstrang, Severus. We could just close our eyes and let it be. But we all know we cannot. It will be the end of our world."

"Is there no way to speak to her directly?" Bernard des Pensees Profondes intervened against the lingering silence that Dumbledore's words had provoked.

"Direct access to Liliana is impossible, you know that well, Bertrand. All our efforts to meet her have been in vain. The last time she spoke to me was the day she left Hogwarts all those years ago. Draco Malfoy is our only interlocutor, and this only when it pleases him." Dumbledore sighed. "To get to her we have to eliminate Draco and Ralph Parkinson from power first."

His interlocutors all stilled at the latter name.

"And in any case she will never agree to give up power or the Sources. Without the Sources the fate of our world is compromised, we all know that," the philosopher said.

Even Snape seemed to agree with his statement.

"We agreed on a plan last time we met," Mademoiselle Armand said. "How does Voldemort fit into the plan?"

Snape gave a humorless laugh.

Dumbledore stared at him kindly. "Do you want to explain, Severus?"

The headmaster of Durmstrang suppressed a snort. "I thought it would be pretty obvious. Voldemort alive is proof that Liliana Slytherin is a fraud. It's proof she never defeated him and that she does not deserve the pedestal the wizarding world put her on."

"Is there any explanation as to why a dead wizard who was killed in front of thousands is alive?" Caroline asked.

"I saw Liliana cast the curse and hit him square in the chest. I was just a few meters away from them. She had all intention of killing him," Dumbledore said. "One explanation is that Voldemort has still a Horcrux or more that we were not aware of at the time. The other is that Liliana and Voldemort's connection will keep both alive as long as one of them is alive. Rowena Ravenclaw's potion had very strange effects on them, some of which I fail to comprehend fully to this day."

"And what did the Dark Lord say when Mr Potter brought him along?" Severus asked.

"Well, that's the most interesting part, isn't it, Severus? Here is where we have to tread very carefully. He's very vengeful and I think I have never seen him so unhinged. He could do something reckless as we speak."

"That is very unlike the Dark Lord. He always prepares his attacks very carefully and chooses the right moment to strike. It's one of his most frightening characteristics," said Snape.

"That is to be hoped for. But he was very agitated, I could tell. He stormed out of my office after a couple of minutes. To him, Liliana's killing curse is yesterday's fresh reality. He's furious."

"He could indeed be a very useful tool to take down Liliana's lackeys and then Liliana herself. His resurfacing would the perfect pretext for a well prepared uprising." Caroline, who'd been quiet for a while said suddenly, her chin resting in the palm of her hand, while she stared meditatively at the Hogwarts headmaster. "But how do we do this without incurring too many risks? He will not be easy to handle."

Dumbledore smiled, and leaned towards her, his eyes twinkling. "Ah, Caroline," he said. "You and I always think the same. Yes, that is the real question."

Snape snorted. He was clearly not in favor of any plan which involved Voldemort.

"To say that Voldemort hates me would be an understatement," Dumbledore continued. "Someone else will need to act on our behalf."

"I think no one in this room. We need someone whose intentions Voldemort, for reasons I can't fathom, could trust," Bernard shook his head.

"He trusts no one completely," Snape said.

"But he could trust Harry Potter's _intentions_. For different reasons, both feel that Liliana betrayed them," Dumbledore said. "He agreed to Harry bringing him to me. Harry may also be the only person who can find him, too."

"I feel like you are keeping parts of the story from us, professor," Caroline smirked.

"I would hate to speculate, I don't have all the elements myself."

"So I trust that you will discuss the issue with Mr. Potter?" Snape inquired.

"In due time. Meanwhile, are we all prepared?"

"Yes, we are largely prepared. I have convinced Vlad Svensson to participate. He will put his name in the goblet of fire. You take it from there."

"Well done, Severus. We are also prepared at Hogwarts. The Head Girl, Miss Price, is most anxious for eternal glory so I have no doubt she will cast her name in the goblet. There is no one as promising for the task as her."

"Excellent, we have everything in place then. For us it will be Jerome Caulier, 7th grade too. Are you sure that rejuvenating potion and the glamours will work? " Caroline inquired anxiously.

"I trust Severus' skills with my life," Dumbledore replied, and looked amused when Snape murmured something unpleasant under his breath.

"Then we are set."

"There is also the question of Mr. Potter accepting the job," Bernard remarked.

"I have no doubt he will accept it. I will go find him tomorrow morning. I have a good idea of where he may be."

"Then we are set!" Caroline said, raising her glass in a toast. "To the success of our plan."

Three other glasses were raised in unison.

Half an hour later, Dumbledore helped Caroline into her sleigh.

"See you in one week at Hogwarts, professor," she said. She looked at Snape, who hovered at the entrance of the pub with the philosopher, and who appeared to be ignoring them.

"When is the wedding?" Dumbledore asked.

"On May 5. Invitations will follow before Christmas."

"Glad to hear that. Au revoir, Caroline."

The sleigh was soon up in the air and Caroline waved a graceful hand at him.

Dumbledore smiled contentedly. He'd rarely had the pleasure of meeting someone who was able to guess his intentions. He was getting old. It would be nice to have someone to rely on in the near future.

"Severus," he called.

"Yes, Headmaster," Snape replied smoothly, his scowl gone as soon as Caroline's sleigh was out of sight.

"I wish you'd work closely with Caroline and stopped antagonizing her on every occasion."

"It's not intentional, Headmaster," he argued. "It's just that…she reminds me of someone I used to hate and despise from the bottom of my heart. Vain, arrogant, self-centered…"

"Also impossibly clever and devious…" Dumbledore continued, amused.

"We will collaborate to your standards, no worries, headmaster," Snape concluded fast, a slight flush coloring his pale face.

"Glad to hear that. Now, who's up for another pint?"


End file.
